The beach...

I just turned around and "caught" my Dad reading Eve Ensler's "The Vagina Monologues"...really!  I've been talking about Eve's letter to the Huffington Post all week - you know the one - that addressed Akin's horrific commentary about rape.

Have you read the "Monologues"?  If not, I highly recommend it.

I know Dad is having a rough day.  He just bitched out loud about Mom to Mom.  She's been quite off today - messing with stuff - totally ADD/Dementia behavior.  Dad has been stressing all week about being with her too much, but doesn't typically take any offers to cover Mom so he can check out and be off the clock for awhile.

So I sit here and try to think of ways to get him to accept those offers, especially now that he may need back surgery.  I have to go back to the good days to get a picture of Dad and Mom back then.

Dad worked summers at the stand at Short Beach when Vinny ran it.  Some of you may remember him.  Mom always came to the beach with the kids and I.  That's where we had our own private "summer camp".

Every day, we would load up the mini cooler with some fruit, get the pbj sandwiches, fill up the gallon jug with water or iced tea, and head to the beach.  The kids, along with any spares would pile into the Camry (seatbelts?  not enough for the 6 or 7 kids!).  Chairs always stayed in the trunk, Mom would meet us there.

We'd set up close to the water, and settle in for an afternoon of sun, and some walking on the beach.  If the kids were too annoying, or too whiny, I would put seaweed around our chairs, as a barrier.  The kids were not allowed to cross the barrier.  One of my kids was afraid of seaweed so that totally worked!

If all was good, we would eventually send the kids up to the stand to pester Poppie for some italian ice, or he would walk down to us with some.

If it was low tide, we usually walked out to the breakwater, and then back.  Swimming was really not possible then at low tide, so the kids would end up particularly dirty from building sand castles, and throwing sand at each other.  Usually, they were egged on by their Grammie.

At high tide, swimming was certainly possible, and my kids were all swimmers.  Mom and I would also pop in, especially when it was wicked hot.  Grammie loved teasing the kids, splashing them and dunking them.  While it was easier to tease the kids in my sister's pool, Mom found ways to get to them at the beach.

When the beach started emptying out, we would head to my sister's and all jump in her pool, including any of the guests that were hanging with us.  Then Mom would get her shot to tease the crap out of all the kids.

I feel my niece and nephew have missed out on that.  Their mom, my other sister, and dad now have a pool, but those kids will never know the sheer terror and joy of having their Grammie come up to them in the pool, like a nice person, then savagely push them under water.

I also feel badly that my Dad doesn't connect the woman who sleeps with him with that crazy woman who was so adventurous, and wild.

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